


Memento

by demonsushi01



Series: Klance Trope Month 2k20 [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, M/M, POV Keith (Voltron), they were kids in the early 2000s, until like high school, which is why they don't have cell phones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24119167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsushi01/pseuds/demonsushi01
Summary: Day 10. Childhood Friends to LoversKeith is cleaning out the attic on a fine Saturday morning and finds boxes that have things from his friend Lance many years ago. He finds himself reminiscing with each object, taking himself through a journey through time.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Klance Trope Month 2k20 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727086
Comments: 14
Kudos: 132





	Memento

“Hey babe, can you take care of some of the clutter up in the attic? I went to find something yesterday up there and it was a mess.” Keith’s husband pouts from where he sits at the kitchen table with their daughter, helping her with her homework.

“Sure love.” He drops a kiss on his forehead, musses his daughter’s hair much to her delighted squeal. He makes his way out of the kitchen, grabs the step ladder from the hall closet, and sets it in front of the very short pull cord for the attic. He opens it up and then crawls inside. 

“I swear it looked better last time.” Keith groans to himself as he looks around, flicking on the light. 

Boxes are strewn about, some objects having tipped over and spilling their contents on the floor, and he’s fairly certain a few spiders have moved in. Is it how he expected to spend his Saturday morning? Not really. But he doesn’t mind.

“Grid system.” He murmurs, moving to one corner of the attic and looking at what boxes are there. He gets a few boxes moved around before he catches one that’s unlabeled. It’s odd and very much unlike him to leave it like that. 

“Let’s see what’s inside.” He hums, opening the dusty box carefully.

At first, he assumes the handful of school work is his daughter’s but he pauses when he finds his own _‘Keith K.’_ in the top right corner. 

“Oh wow.” He whispers, flipping through essays he’d written as a kid and pictures he’d drawn. He opens up one of the old notebooks and skims over what he’d written inside. It’s an old diary he realizes, each entry dated and handwriting slowly improving as the pages pass. He reconnects with the young nine-year-old him who’s tired of moving around the country and is afraid of a boy named Lance.

“I remember this.” He murmurs.

.o.0.o.

Keith is nine and a half, his boxes still packed up in his closet, when his parents tell him they’re moving again. He doesn’t have it in him to complain, this has been his life since Dad went back to being a soldier. Or well Mom says he went _back_ to it, he’s never known him as not one. Keith just reluctantly goes back upstairs and pulls out the boxes in his closet, opening one up and clearing out his room. 

They move to some city where he doesn’t know anyone again. This city is hot though, the sun bright and burning his skin when he glares at the too blue sky. He just shoves the boxes back into his closet, though this one is bigger. Then it’s his family eating takeout for a few days until all the dishes are unpacked and then he’s back at school.

Schools aren’t too different from one another. This one doesn’t have uniforms, unlike his last one. He still wears khaki pants and polo shirts though. No sense in begging his parents for new clothes when his next school might need these. He’s made to stand in front of the class and introduce himself by his overly friendly fourth-grade teacher.

“I’m Keith.” He says, his shoulders are rolled back and he finds himself standing at attention the way he’s seen Mom and Dad do.

“Can you tell us something about yourself?” The teacher asks.

“I probably won’t be here long.” He answers and looks over at her. “Where do I sit?” 

“Um,” She’s thrown off but smiles and looks out at her class. “Yes, Lance?” She tilts her head and Keith sees a boy practically standing up with his arm in the air.

“There’s a spot at my group!” Lance says with a bright smile and points to the empty desk.

“Keith, you can sit at Lance’s group.” She gestures and Keith nods, going over to sit at the small cluster of five desks that Lance is at. He takes the empty desk across from him.

“Hi, I’m Lance.” He offers his hand.

“I know.” Keith looks at it, knows he should shake it but doesn’t feel like it. Lance seems to understand though and brings his hand back.

“I like your hair,” Lance says. 

“Thank you.” _I don’t_. It’s cut just like Dad’s and it feels fuzzy.

No matter how he tries to avoid playing with the other kids at recess, preferring to stay in the shade of the ramada where the temperature is bearable, Lance sits with him and always gets him to play something. Sometimes Lance challenges him to who can swing the highest, who can run the fastest, or who can do the most jumps with the jump rope. Other times Lance shows him his hand-me-down purple Gameboy Advanced with Sonic and Pokemon Ruby depending on the day.

Lance seems determined to be his friend, handing him notes in class and picking him first for partner activities. He even sits next to Keith during lunch, never once commenting on his same white bread sandwich with a single slice of ham and Kraft cheese single. Nor does he make a comment about the plain brown paper bag his sandwich is in. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t make fun of Lance’s pink Hello-Kitty lunch box packed with food that smells very different to Keith. 

“Why are you being so…” Keith waves his hands around as they leave the cafeteria to go run on the playground.

“So what?” Lance looks over at him.

“I’m not staying here for long,” Keith tells him.

“So?”

“So?” Keith repeats.

“Look, just ‘cause you won’t be here long doesn’t mean you can’t be with people you like. You can have all the fun you want ‘till you go.” Lance points out.

So yeah, he’s a bit afraid of Lance. A boy who _wants_ to be his friend despite knowing Keith won’t stay. 

.o.0.o.

Keith in the present shakes his head as he sits down, setting the diary aside and digging through the box. He looks for more traces of Lance hidden inside it. He pulls out a thin, blue and red braided bracelet. 

“You dork.” Keith laughs softly, cradling it in his palm. He wore the poor thing in half, he remembers crying about it too, but more importantly, he remembers when Lance gave it to him.

.o.0.o.

Keith is ten and Lance is the only person he invites to his birthday party. Mom and Dad are excited that he’s made a friend in the few months it’s been since moving here. Lance is dropped off by his mom, holding his pillow tightly to his chest and thrusting a small gift bag into Keith’s hands.

“What is it?” Keith asks.

“It’s your gift!” Lance tells him as Keith leads him to his room. He doesn’t open it yet, knowing he should wait until he opens the ones from his parents. Lance spins around his room in awe.

“What?”

“You have such a big room!” Lance tells him. “And you don’t share it with anyone?”

“No.” Keith shrugs. 

“You’re so _lucky_. I share mine with my brothers.” He sighs. 

Mom makes one of his favorite meals and his dad brings out the cake after it’s done. Lance sings him happy birthday, even though he tells him it’s not needed. He doesn’t even remember what his parents got him, all he remembers is Lance’s gift. A tiny hippo plushie and a braided piece of rope. 

“I know you like hippos but mi ama said we couldn’t get a _real_ one. Though it would have been _way_ cooler.” Lance crosses his arms. “And I remembered your favorite color was blue and mine’s red so I made us matching friendship bracelets!” He then sticks his arm out and shows Keith. 

Later in the night, Lance ties the bracelet to his left wrist. He tells Keith that he should make a wish for each knot he ties. It’s hard for Keith to not do it, not when Lance looks at him with his big smile.

_I wish for a lot of candy this year for Halloween._

_I wish that Dad doesn’t get that new job he’s talked about and makes us move again._

_I wish that Lance and I will always be friends._

.o.0.o.

It’s probably why he broke down when it snapped off his wrist. He’s fairly certain he had gotten candy galore that year. His dad did not get that job and they stayed longer. But then… 

.o.0.o.

Keith turns eleven and has a revelation. He finds out that Hunk thinks about girls, and so does Lance. The two think about their _girl_ crushes. They talk about how pretty they are, how they like their smiles, how they like their laughs. Then they turn to Keith and ask him if there’s someone he likes.

He’s nervous about saying anything, playing with the little ears of his hippo. He doesn’t feel that way to the girls in his class. 

“I do.” He answers.

“Do we know her?” Hunk asks.

“Who is she?” Lance snaps his head over to him. 

“... A boy.” Wheezes out of him, his heart pounding in his ears.

“Oh, okay?” Hunk nods but looks confused.

“Is that even allowed?” Lance tilts his head. Keith shrugs a shoulder.

“My dad says it happens.” Katie finally pipes up, having been focused on Lance’s Gameboy.

“It does?” 

“Yeah. He says it’s not weird. And my dad is really smart, so I believe him.” 

“That’s cool.” Hunk looks over to Keith. “Do we know him?”

“Weren’t we going to watch a movie?” Keith asks instead. Lance excitedly gets up and grabs the movie he was going to show them. He’s thankful for the distraction. How is he supposed to tell them that the boy he thinks about is Lance? How is he supposed to tell them he wants to maybe hold Lance’s hand and share lunch with him? 

.o.0.o.

Lance was his whole awakening. He traces the bracelet with a sad smile and sets it aside. The next thing he pulls out of the box is an old yearbook from sixth grade. When he opens it up, it falls to the page Lance took over. It fills him with a faint sense of guilt as he reads over the promises to hang out during the summer and to hope they go to the same middle school.

“But we moved.” He murmurs. Keith’s life had been uprooted again at the start of summer. They moved to the coast, far away from the small, hot, city he’d lived in for three years. Far away from the boy he was getting a crush on and his only friends he’d really made.

With a frown he packs the box back up, setting it aside with some other mementos he has. One of the boxes of various mementos is on its side, no doubt from when the stray cat broke into their attic. He carefully scoops the items back up and places them in the box. 

He finds a few letters that he and Lance had written to each other during middle school. He no longer remembers who forgot to send a reply, causing their only real method of communication to die since Lance never told him the new number for his house phone. And when they were unable to talk with one another, regardless of how often Keith wondered or thought about him, his bracelet snapped off his wrist.

It felt like fate’s way of telling him the two were no longer friends. It killed him back then and he can still feel the echo of it in his chest now, twenty years later at thirty-three. He shuffles the letters back into their appropriate order and puts them in the box.

“Oh god.” He groans when he finds a familiar binder on the ground. 

It has old photos of him and the few friends he made during high school. It was the next time they had really stopped moving around. He shakes his head at how awkward he looked, some things never really change he supposes.

But one of the photos in the collection is of a gangly seventeen-year-old Lance with Hunk. It was the first picture Lance had sent him, he remembers. 

.o.0.o.

Keith is seventeen, a junior in high school, and his classmates beg him to get a Facebook so they can talk to one another for a school project. He tells them they can just text his phone, but they remind him that the IM feature Facebook has gives them immediate responses and is therefore easier. 

Keith groaned and worked through setting it up after school. The last time he made an account like this it was for MySpace and he used it for all of a week before he lost interest in it. But he admits, this is more friendly for finding people he _actually_ knows. 

In fact, one of the names that pop up is Hunk Garret. Keith balks at the name and clicks instantly on it. 

“Jesus, he got _tall,_ ” Keith whispers as he skims through the pictures. It’s how he finds Katie or well Pidge according to their profile. It’s how he finds Lance.

“Oh.” He can’t stop the soft gasp at Lance’s face. Boy was hit with the puberty stick and came out looking great. He reaches out to his old friend, wonders if the guy even remembers him.

Two days later, Keith finds out as Lance sends him a long-winded message about how it’s been too long and wondering what he had been up to. Something Keith hadn’t even known was shifted out of place, settles. They swap pictures and stories, catching up, and talking about their classes. 

.o.0.o.

Keith shakes his head and sets the photo aside, leaving the binder where it is and looking through the box. He eventually finds what he’s looking for. A small glass rose, carefully wrapped up in bubble wrap and newspaper.

“You were such a dork.” Keith chuckles.

.o.0.o.

Keith is still seventeen but Christmas is around the corner. Which means winter break and snow. Lance still messages him every day when he can and it brings a smile to his face. Lance eagerly asks him for his phone number and Keith hands it over, he’d already given the guy his address after all. It was for Lance to mail him some Christmas gift he said. 

There’s a knock on his bedroom door shortly after sending his number to Lance. He leans back from his desk and looks to the door. His mom is holding a box in her hand and giving him a small smile.

“Mail for you.” She says. 

“For me?” He gets up, confused, and takes it from her.

“From Lance.” 

“Guess it’s early,” Keith mumbles and tucks it under his arm. “Thanks.” His mom reaches out and brushes his bangs out of his face.

“And you’re sure you don’t want to cut your hair?”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She grabs his nose for a second and then leaves him be. 

Keith sits at his desk and lets Lance know his gift is here. Lance tells him to get on Skype before he opens it. He shakes his head and logs in, Lance calling him seconds later.

“Hey.” He smiles.

“Hey!” Lance waves even though it makes his camera lag. He’s moving from his kitchen down the hall. Keith chuckles as he hears Lance bickering with his sisters as he ushers them out of his room asking for privacy.

“Ugh, nosy ladies. You’re lucky you don’t have siblings.” Lance sighs and sits at his desk.

“I don’t know, seems like there’s never a dull moment over there.”

“I _want_ one.” Lance laughs. “Anyway, you can open it now.”

“I know I’m five hours ahead of you, but isn’t this for Christmas?” He raises a brow and taps the box.

“I _maybe_ lied about it.” He gives him a sheepish grin. Keith shakes his head and looks at the box.

“Is it going to explode?”

“No! Come onnn.” Lance whines. 

“I’m going, I’m going.” Keith sets the box on his desk as he pushes his chair back, wheeling over to his nightstand and grabbing the switchblade his mom had given him for his birthday. He wheels back over, pushes his laptop further back, and flicks the blade open.

“Dear God, I forgot you have a knife kink.” 

“It’s not a kink.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“Sure, and I’m an only child.” Lance shakes his head. “Just be careful.”

“I will,” Keith promises and opens the box carefully. Inside it, under layers of packing peanuts, newspaper, and bubble wrap, is a single glass rose. He twirls it in his fingers and smiles softly.

“I want to ask you something, Keith,” Lance says and he looks back at the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Will you go out with me?”

“...Like, be your boyfriend?” _Oh, he wants that._ He holds the rose closer to himself.

“Exactly that.” Lance smiles, head resting in his palm as he gives Keith that warm smile that always makes him melt. Keith covers his face, cradles the rose to his chest, and nods.

“I wanna hear you say it.” Lance chuckles. So Keith peeks out from between his fingers.

“Yeah. I want to.” 

It doesn’t matter to him they’re states away. It doesn’t matter to him that they can’t go around town together or hold hands or even kiss. He just wants to be with Lance, something that’s been years in the making.

He learns Lance was going to send him actual roses, but then realized they probably wouldn’t make it in one piece. Keith laughs and points out he could have just ordered them from a store in his area. Lance huffs and pouts but Keith hides his smile behind the glass rose. He loves it far more.

.o.0.o.

Keith spins it around again, setting it with the old photo and digging through the box, wondering what else is in it. Lance sent him plenty of gifts after they started dating, he remembers. He finds most of them in the box, chuckling at each one. 

They were so happy together. Sure, they had their own rough spots but it was stuff they were able to work out. For a high school relationship, especially a _long-distance_ one, it withstood quite a lot. Keith was glad for the experiences. 

He finds a small jewelry box and opens it up. There are old necklaces he hasn’t worn in years, some gifts from Lance, others he’d gotten on his own. A few pairs of earrings and a slap bracelet are in there too. But the important thing, he plucks it out gently, holds it in his palm.

A ring. 

It’s nothing extravagant, a silver band with a thin red line through it. The sight of it has him running his hand through his hair. Things between him and Lance had been so good. And then he…

“Babe?” Keith jumps at the sound of his husband’s voice. He turns and sees him peek his head into the attic. 

“Hey.” He laughs.

“This isn’t even close to cleaning.” 

“I know.” Keith looks back at the ring. He hears the floorboards creak as his husband comes over, wrapping his arms around Keith’s waist.

“I thought you were going to toss this all out.” He says.

“You know I can’t.” Keith lets his head fall back against his shoulder.

“Is that your old promise ring?” 

“It is.” Keith smiles fondly at it.

“Brings back memories.” He whistles.

“All of this does.”

“Is that why you won’t toss it? You _really_ don’t need the letters from middle school.”

“Aww, I thought they were sweet.” He turns and faces his husband.

Some things really don’t change he supposes, looking up at those blue eyes he’s always loved. He leans up and kisses those lips he spent months wanting to, fingers running through brown hair the way they did on their honeymoon and every night before and since. 

He leans back and looks up at his husband, the man he’s loved for years. 

“What?” He tilts his head. 

“I just love you, Lance.” He smiles. “And I always will.”

“I’d hope so.” Lance laughs. “You married me after all. Now, come down for lunch before either our daughter or your dog eat it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who else had a MySpace before it became something for music? I know I did lmaooo
> 
> Feel free to drop me a line here or over at demon-sushi at Tumblr, I do my best to respond to every comment <3


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